Taming the Beast
by MataruDoukotsu
Summary: What do the 3 most wanted convicts in the universe and a wanted teenager have in common on a more complex level than just the handsome bounties on their heads? Why is the Regime so hellbent on capturing all 4 alive? Ignorance is bliss.
1. Chapter 1

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

He knew it would be hard, but it didn't mean that he couldn't do it. The fact was, he _had_ to do it; for his safety…for _her_ safety. It was the only way, and he couldn't let her live a life like his if it was by his own free will.

"What is that planet?" the calm voice of Imam asked as he pointed to a planet on the nav screen.

"Nothing, Holy man, nothing." He growled, hoping the dark skinned man standing at his shoulder got the silent message. Riddick would deal with the problem once they arrived to it. Quickly he set a course for New Mecca, and set the small elegant skiff they stole from the Merc ship into autopilot. Kicking back his boot clad feet on the console, he listened as Imam shuffled to the back of the skiff and continued his prayers. Pulling his goggles up on his forehead, he rubbed his shaved head before putting his large hands behind his neck.

The sound of the copilot's seat creaking alerted him that someone was in it; and since the holy man was still praying, then it could only be one other person.

"How long will it take us to get to New Mecca?" her voice was just above a whisper, as if she were afraid to speak too loud, but it still carried a bold note to it.

Shifting his mercury gaze to the slip of a girl, he answered her, "'Bout a month, without any stops. Then of course we're not going to go straight through. Fresh air is gonna be needed, and some new clothes." He eyed her baggy cargos and shirt, and her cropped boy cut red-brown hair. If he wouldn't have been able to smell her, he would've actually thought she was a boy.

"So…how long?" she asked again, not clear on how much time she would have in his presence on the skiff. But then, he would stay with her on New Mecca, right? Or he would take her with him if he decided that civilization was too much?

"Depends, maybe two months, maybe three." Suddenly he smirked as he looked at her.

"What?" she questioned, unable to see what he would find so amusing. Was there something on her face? Or maybe between her teeth? She hoped to god, any god-even Imam's god-, that she didn't have a pimple sprouting somewhere noticeable or something. That would definitely suck, because so far she'd been lucky to have such a clear face.

"You just might want to be careful when you go out into the public, Jack." he answered. Relief was showing on her face but then he saw the question of 'why' coming, "You just might get jumped by a gang of girls, 'cause I'm sure you'd be pretty damn cute to those in your age group." He watched as a look of pure disgust took over her face, but then he knew it was going to happen. Though she was tall and a bit lanky, he knew that she had a pretty good build, especially if she trained a bit.

"You're disgusting, Riddick. But, if it does happen, I'm runnin' past ya, that way they'd change their minds to _you_." She retorted, and snickered a bit. "But I seriously doubt that it would happen. I'm kinda lanky for a boy."

He had to admit, she had a back up plan in case it happened. Riddick was no fool. He knew that everywhere he went almost the entire female population looked him over with hungry eyes. Though to some men, it would sound great, to Riddick it just showed him how stupid and one track-minded females where when it came to their counter parts. Sometimes, it just revolted him. "If you say so, Jack. But if I were you, I'd still watch my back."

"Keh," she rolled her eyes. Silence reigned before she asked another question. "Riddick? Could you, you know, train me how to fight?"

Damn, what was wrong with this kid? She always has a question flying down from those baggy sleeves of hers. He opened his eyes; quicksilver on green. "You wanna learn how to fight or do you wanna learn how to kill? 'Cause I can teach ya both. It'll be rough, and I won't be merciless, kid."

"Both would be radical." She answered with a smirk identical to the one he had expressed earlier. "Definitely would help me against any guys who think I took their girl, which of course I would not've."

"Of course you wouldn't have." Riddick grinned and got up. "Tomorrow, Jack, we'll start. But until then, we'll nab some sleep." He said, noticing Imam sleeping in one of the bedrooms. He heard the girl scramble out of the chair and into the bedroom that was left to them, and claim the spot on the bed closest to the wall, just as she had when they were in the last skiff.

Suppressing a yawn, the convict removed his boots and placed them next to Jack's smaller ones, took off his tank and draped it on them before settling down next to the kid; back to back.

A/N: So, how is it? Please reviews and flames are expected.

More to come. Yeah…okay…?


	2. Chapter 2

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

"God damnit! What a fucked up piece of shit!"

"Jacquelyn, would you please mind your mouth." Imam gazed up at the youth as he knelt in his early morning prayers.

She glared at the dark skinned male who scolded her, her face resembling the growling of a large cat. "I'm legal age, Imam. I can say whatever the hell I wanna say. I don't have a legal guardian on this ship to tell me what and what not to do, and you don't qualify." She retorted as she held a smashed vid screen.

"I am just afraid that you are starting to sound more like Mr. Riddick every day." He replied, but closed his eyes and continued in his prayers.

"Nyah," she mouthed silently, she knew it was childish, but she just couldn't help it. Shifting her gaze back to the small vid console she had bought on their last outing, she sighed and jettisoned it into space through the waste dispoal.

Now she had nothing to do. She had finished the four hours of grueling labor and exercise Riddick had put her through earlier this morning. So now the only thing she could do was go back into the room where Big Bad and Evil made her stronger and take on the punching bag to alleviate her boredom.

Riddick watched from the corner of the room as Jack wrapped her hands before she started her attacks on the poor bag. He watched her face melt into one of pure determination and concentration. She was pretty strong, and much of a vixen. He could tell when they fought, that she had an animal. But as to what kind, he couldn't tell as of yet.

Sighing, Riddick moved from the room and straight to the bridge and into the pilot's seat. It was great knowing that this little ship was his. Course, he had to send Jack out into the ports to get it. But he had checked it out and had her trade the last skiff for this cozy one. He was grateful for the elegance and class of the last one; cost a lot of money, it did, and got them a three man turned two ship. Grinning to himself he set plan to the planet Cerevon; a melting pot of a planet. There they would get some essentials, and Riddick really wanted to give something to Jack…

"You sure about this Riddick?" she asked for the last time. "'Cause I mean, you still have a pretty handsome bounty on yer head."

Jack looked the lion of a man over. He still wore his black cargos and combat boots, but over his black tank was a hoodie that was a little tight in the chest and shoulders but otherwise pretty much baggy; and of course it had to be black. She handed over a gray beanie cap and watched as he positioned it with the black outlined words Dirty South center on his forehead.

"Well?" he purred. He never spoke, the action of speaking never seemed to suit him; he growled and purred and very rarely she had seen him snarl.

"'Well' what?" she replied, before snickering, "Well I think the security force of this damn planet will arrest you just for the amount of black yer wearing." She ducked as he swat at her with a large paw like hand, but she knew she couldn't get away from him as he wrestled her onto her stomach.

With a bit of envy, Jack watched the massive convict flop down beside her with a certain amount of grace. "Anyway," she continued. "I think you should add a bit of color to your life, Riddick, besides all that black."

A short laugh erupted from his chest, "I did add some color." Pointing to the beanie he answered her unspoken question, "Gray."

Now it was her turn to swat at him; but with irritation, she noticed that he was too fast for her. Watching him stroll to the door of their shared room, she had to smile at his attempt of redemption from her accusation. Jack had to admit, Riddick did have a certain sense of humor, even though sometimes it was kinda crude and dark.

"C'mon kid. We gotta do this, and we gotta do this right." Came his deep rumble.

With out much reluctance, Jack jumped from her position on their bed and to her nimble feet, wordlessly following the murderer onto the main deck. The adolescent knew it was highly dangerous for her comrade to go into public, but as it seemed, the huge convict really wanted to see the outside again. Standing beside Riddick, Jack watched as the door opened and Imam stepped out, sunshine raining on his dark face, a smile claiming it. Just as she was about to follow the priest, she felt a large hand hold her back.

"What Riddick?" She watched, numbly, as a card was pushed into her much smaller hands. Gazing at the holographic number at the back, her jaw dropped. "Holy Mother Mary of Monster balls! I can't take this Riddick!"

"Sure ya can, kid." A grin ate at his lips as he playfully pushed her forward, closer to Imam. "You earned it. Now get goin', we don't wanna lose the holy man, do we?"

She stared at him for a minute longer, before nodding and jumping from the exit and following their companion. Shoving the card into her pocket, she fingered the words etched on it. _Corden Tucker_. "Riddick, why in the hell did you pick a name like Corden Tucker?" To say she was annoyed when all he did was chuckle lightly and rub her head, her soft downy fur like hair disarranging, was the understatement of the millennia.

A/N: Hmm, I think this one is longer, but…whatever.

Flamers excepted. Please review


	3. Chapter 3

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

Jack slipped out of the store with a satisfied grin on her face, and six bags in tow. She was happy and content. Of course she had a couple of priceless moments when Imam had walked into the female stores with her. The saleswomen had looked at Jack and Imam as if they were crazy bringing a boy into a girl's outfitter's compartment swearing that she was indeed a female. Jack wasn't stupid; she knew that every one of those women had thought them to be mentally addled. Snickering, she followed behind Imam; they still had one more thing to do: Find Riddick.

_I bet it's actually like 'Stand out in the open so Riddick can find _us_' type deal,_ she thought with a snort, and without much surprise did she look over to her right and found the big guy walking lazily beside her, as if he had always been there and belonged.

"Yeah, thanks for scaring the shit outta me." She replied sarcastically, looking up into his face, knowing that those silver eyes were gazing intently at her from behind those goggles. Snapping her head forward slightly, she let dark reflecting sun shades fall over her eyes from where they had been stuck on top of her head. Cracking a grin she continued, "But seriously, can we speed it up a bit, Imam? I gotta piss like a race horse, and those damned women didn't help me much in the sense of showing me the nearest bathroom. Too interested in what kind of shirt they thought looked 'cute' on me, keh."

The comment earned her two things. One, a rewarding bark of laughter erupting from Riddick's delightful lips, and two, a pointed look from Imam. Carefully, Jack prodded Imam with one of her bags, trying to make him walk faster, "C'mon, Hoodoo holy man, I told ja I gotta _piss_! And don't tell me that you don't have to either!"

"She's right, ya know. We've been here almost six hours; I know you gotta piss too, Holy Man." Riddick smirked as Imam tossed that same look he had given to Jack right at him. He lifted his goggles to rest on his brow, and gave the older man a hard playful stare. "C'mon, the kid's gotta fuckin' piss, and she just might as well as piss her fuckin' pants. For all I know, she just might have a gun tucked into her cargos and she just might pop a cap in ya ass fer being slow. I know _I_ would." He watched as a playful glint appeared into the gentle man's dark brown eyes, and he looked forward and sniffed; nose held up high.

"And Allah knows that I would blame you, Mr. Riddick, for teaching her such mannerisms and the ways of the streets."

"Oh, he's not the one who taught me the ways of the streets, Imam," Jack smirked, her eyes glinting wickedly behind the reflective lenses of the shades unknowingly, "I was a street urchin from the beginning of my days. All good ole Riddick taught me was to further my chances of survival with the biggest bad boys in the underbelly of the Universes. And Allah ain't got shit on me; compared to Riddick, who is a muther fuckin' slick shit Merc killer, I'm a saint!" She gave grinned looking at the ex-con.

"Jacquelyn, mind your manners. How many times must I tell you…" He began, before both took over, looking at each other behind his back.

"We may curse the government, animals, Mercs, the silver ware, the ship, the food processor, the computer, telemarketers, other random people and even Allah himself, but we may not curse each other because it shows how much respect we have for one another." They both recited perfectly and in sync with each other with a dull note in their voices; sounding much like children who had just been scolded by their parents.

"Very good children." Imam laughed, amused that they both sounded so…domesticated in that one sentence.

Riddick wrinkled his nose as he heard the cleric call him a child; but he only let it slide because the man was his senior by a good couple of decades. He settled into the comfortable companionable silence, but kept on edge as they walked back to their ship. He gazed unnoticeably to his side at the girl who was masquerading as a boy. It looked as if she were studying the stars that hung in the inky blackness far above them; but he couldn't be too sure for her sun-shades were much like his own goggles. He nearly reached over to lift the black framed lenses so he could see her emerald gaze. But he found he was slightly surprised when she sprouted her next question.

"Riddick, how old are you?"

Smirking lightly he now knew why he liked this girl; she kept him on his toes with her constant questions; not only her questions but her open mind when they trained. She could really catch him off guard sometimes and cause him to improvise. "Twenty-two. You?"

"Sixteen." She answered with as much simplicity, as she brushed some dirt or whatnot from her shoulder. He was slightly surprised. He would have thought her to maybe be thirteen or preteens; but nothing so close to maturity. It really did answer why she was so…different and open to new ideas.

Riddick watched as the young woman returned her gaze to the stars. Any time she wasn't training with him or praying with Imam, he always found her staring into the dark abyss of the universe, silent as the thing she was gazing at. It made him think about what went on in that head of hers. What made her tick? What made her scared? Because obviously _he_ didn't. It was one of the things that made Riddick question about her; _why_ wasn't she scared of him? Unless she too was just as much psycho fucked in the head like him; or maybe she found comfort in knowing that there was someone who had the strength to protect her?

He didn't doubt it.

As much as he had heard about her past, she needed someone to protect her. But certainly not him, right? He was on the run; he would always have Mercs on his neck. That was not something that she would need if he let her tag along. Though from conversations they had had previously, it sounded as if she were trying to find someone.

One thing he was sure of: she was an enigma. One that he could not find all the answers to; which made Riddick tick. Only God himself would actually fuck with him a little and not let him have all the answers of that which he wanted. Riddick knew that he was a greedy bastard, but when it came to knowledge, Riddick would get what Riddick wanted. _As well as some other things too_... he chuckled silently at that thought.

"Riddick, how the hell did you get a rap sheet like the one you've got if your only twenty-two?" the sudden question filled the area between the younger two of the trio.

Turning his head quickly to look at her, he blinked for a second before the question actually sunk in. Laughing openly, he set a hand on her slim shoulder. Calming slightly, he grinned down at the teenager. "Jack, I was thirteen when I killed my first, and I started with a big bang of twenty guardsmen. Ever since I've been doing what I do best and in the first two years, it was done in group numbers. After my first killing spree I was determined a mentally ill child, and sent to a correctional facility. The fourth time, with already on hundred eighty-eight notches on my belt, they sent me to Slam City at the age of fourteen. At every other Slam they sent me to, I'd kill too many inmates and they would transfer me again. By the time I was eighteen and deemed a psychopathic murderer, I had three hundred eighty-eight on my belt…but there was someone else at that time that was the same age as me who had like five hundred or so…can't remember what his name was…"

At that moment it looked as if the kid wanted to supply a name, but she abruptly bit her bottom lip and hushed up. _Interesting._ Riddick continued his short life line as they loaded up into his ship; the _Killer Eclipse_.

"Anyway, by then I decided to calm down a bit. I got my respect and no body tried to fuck with me unless they thought they could live up to the challenge. And there were quite a lot of those in the triple max slams I've been in; especially Butcher Bay."

"So how many notches now?" she asked, her shades resting on the crown of her head as they sat down in the cock pit.

Cocking his head to the side, Riddick studied her face. It didn't look like she was frightened by the number of people he had killed so far. Actually it looked as if she was totally unimpressed…as if she had met someone who had killed more and had lived to get past them. He decided to answer her question as calmly as he had explained his time line, "By now, maybe around five hundred ninety-four…maybe more." Riddick caught the weary glance Imam sent his way before kneeling and beginning his nightly prayers.

Her head bobbed up and down as she nodded, understanding filling her aura. "But you only kill in four major categories? Military, government, law enforcements, and Mercs. No civvies. No women, children and the defenseless. It is all just protection actually, more than killing sprees. It is the thing that you do that makes you feel as if you're not hiding behind a mask of something someone _else_ wants you to be. It is _you_. You are _it_."

Riddick blinked at her in surprise. How did a mere slip of a girl put what he felt and did into one explanation and make it seem so damned perfect? She knew exactly his terms; no civvies: women, children and the defenseless; only Mercs, Military, Law enforcement and government. And she made it seem as if his killing was justified and…_right_.

How did she _do_ that?

"How?" was his only question. It was the only thing he could actually form without seeming so disorganized and so…not him.

Riddick watched as an understanding smile ate at her lips and reached her emerald eyes. For someone to be so young, she sure was wise. "Let's just say that I know someone a lot like you, Riddick. Doing what she does best, taking out those who do bad to those in the universe, then have Mercs and Bounty Hunters coming after her and leaving her so utterly confused and in the dark because to her, she doesn't hurt those that matter." She grinned sheepishly, which ultimately turned into a yawn. "Look at me. Now I'm rambling, and I've probably not only got myself slightly confused but have you thinking, 'what the hell is she talking about?' I think I need to get…to…bed!" she stretched and yawned again. "Ahh…but I don't wanna move."

Riddick watched in slight amusement as her eye lids fluttered over those green gems. He could hear her heart beat start to slow down into a steady pace until she was finally asleep. He wondered briefly if it was good for her to sleep in the copilot chair or not. The convict took the time to notice that all the tension that usually filled the girl dissipated as soon as she drifted off into dreamland. It then occurred to him how strung up and edgy she always was; possibly as much as himself. But the question that presented itself to him was: _why_ would she be so edgy and tense all the time?

Lifting himself from the chair, Riddick bent down, gathered the girl in his arms and made off for their shared bedroom. What ever the answer was, he was sure that it would come to him soon enough; and when it did, it would be the biggest discovery since…

_The time I first learned how to effectively kill using the sweet spot, _Riddick smirked. Oh yeah, that had been a very big discovery to him, and a very valuable one at that.

After pulling off her boots, he removed her cargos only to find that she was wearing a pair of black silk boxers; a pair of her _own_. Raising a brow at that, he shook he head before pulling the blankets down and laying her on the inside. Removing his own boots and his tank, he settled down on his back. Turning his head to look at the one who he was sharing the bed with, Riddick noticed her slight form shivering.

Sighing slightly, he turned to face her and threw his arm over her rib cage. She immediately snuggled into his warmth that he offered.

_Christ, kid, what in fucks name are you doin' to me? _He thought as he set his chin on the crown of her head before letting a light sleep haze his mind.

Imam looked up as he watched the large man who piloted the _Killer Eclipse_ walk into the shared room with the teenage girl in his arms. With a light sigh, his thoughts traveled away from his nightly ritual and to his companions. Imam was _not _expecting the huge convict to tell Jacquelyn the things he had been through, but the cleric knew that it was only the vaguest and most clean run through that he had told her.

He had no idea how many Riddick had killed. And he had no _idea_ that such a man could actually joke around when a young girl who idolized him and an old man much like himself. Much less care for their needs. It just went to show how much of a man the convict could be.

Imam was surprised, in the least, when he heard Jacquelyn converse with Riddick and express him as if he was not in the wrong. He had been relieved when she had said aloud that Riddick only killed in four categories, minus women, children and the defenseless. The ex-con only killed those who came after him. But just as Imam had been relieved, he was distressed to hear that the girl had known someone just like their companion.

_As it seems,_ the Muslim priest thought, _Jack runs right straight into people like Mr. Riddick all the time. And it almost seems as if she is looking for the one that our friend reminds her of._

Vaguely, as his mind began to settle down into sleep, he wondered if she would disappear from them to look for her lost companion by herself.

A/N: Ummm….rrrriiigghhht….yeah, this **is** longer.

Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

It was very, _very_ unfair. It wasn't that he hadn't tried, or maybe a four man team just wasn't _enough_. Had to be; it was the only explanation. She had sensed the excitement and the smell of hunters in the air, and had fled the area. He hadn't realized just how stupid his men were until he noticed them giving chase.

"You _idiots_!" he had yelled at their backs wishing that he could just shoot them down before the _beast_ caught wind of them and tortured them to death for trying to bring harm to her charge.

"C'mon Toombs; we can catch her!" the Asian man, Torch, yelled excitedly back at him. "Even if we don't get Dame Evil, we'll still be able to spilt 8mil from Lil Evil's capture!"

"There's one thing that _I_ know that _you_ don't, Torch," Toombs growled, "Once Dame notices that Lil Evil's gone, she'll come after us, and I mean _track us down_ and scatter our pieces. Dame _isn't_ just a convict; she's the _beast_."

The look that the young lad gave him was pure horror as both of them began down the alleyway after the rest of their crewmates. It didn't take them long to find the first body: June, her neck supporting a clean laceration and gushing blood onto the asphalt below her.

"Looks as if Satan has taught her Lil' Evil well." Torch frowned, and clenched his gat harder.

"Well you better take some comfort from it." He replied, standing back up and pulling his own gattling back into his hands and looking into Torch's questioning face. "'Cause it means that no one else will be able to take our bounty from us. Just better hope that she ain't as skilled as it seems."

They walked on farther down the alley quietly, hoping that they might be able to save at least the last one of their teammates. Rounding the end of the alleyway Toombs was filled with both relief and distress. The one they were chasing was holding a shiv to Kevin's throat, baring her teeth. Toombs had many names for the teenaged convict: The Raven (the messenger of death, get it?), Lil Evil, Lil beast, Lil Devil, Artillery Gal, Death Ticket, and Convict's Ward. But he knew when to use those and when not to, and now was a 'not'.

"Nice to see ya, Kayce." He smiled suggestively, not a care in the world that she was just nineteen. She was already legal in every planet now, so he had every right to hit on his target. "You look great, babe."

"Dream on, Toombs." She growled; something that she had, no doubt, learned from her elder sister. "Your men were stupid. Got rid of the girl; she looked like a long road competition for me."

He watched a dark smirk tug at her lips. "So why don't you hand over your sister then. Isn't she a competition?" Toombs hoped that she would take his offer, but he had a feeling she wouldn't. After all, Satan had a _lot_ more bounty on her head that her Lil Devil.

"Not a chance, Toombs. Dame doesn't want male attention, and when it's given she kills 'em. You should know that; a good couple of your prior crews have tried to woo her and you saw how she unsheathed her claws and splattered their blood on the walls and streets. At any rate, she got me outta the mess you put me in. I would give anything for her and she would the same for me." The glint of her blade played wicked with his eyes, and when he opened them again Kevin was bleeding heavily from the X mark on his chest. Toombs took a moment to watch the dark shadow stealthily climb the wall and disappear.

"We'll see each other again, Damion." He'd smirked.

A/N: Short, yes, but it is just the introduction to Toombs...On to the next chapter! .  
Please Review.


	5. Chapter 5

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

And here they were, a bandaged Kevin laying down on the med bunk sleeping soundly with some help from Madame Morphine to stop his screams, Torch finishing up setting a course, and Toombs sitting in the mess area of their ship chewing on his thumb nail, stressing over the events.

He had lost June and had learned a couple of new lessons. One, don't hire any more females; it will only make Damion kill them. Two, don't underestimate Kayce M. Damion; especially considering who her protector is.

Which was another thing to wonder about; he hadn't seen Slade in a while. Toombs was starting to believe that the infamous Slade and Damion sisters were only playing with him. An old game of tag; except, he could only catch glimpses of them before they decided to run further into the fraudulent labyrinthine. And by the way it seemed they were very good at running and killing anything in their path.

The couple of times that Toombs had to dock a mother Merc ship, or what he liked to call a Merc City, there were always people, scientists he presumed, who liked to ask him questions about his quarry. The most favored one is "Do you think Ms. Slade is dangerous to civilians?" And always he would answer no. He knew how she worked because she only _let_ him. She only killed those of the Galatical Government and Army, and Mercs. Just about any and every body who would try to take her or Damion back to Slam or kill them; he at least never saw her kill the defenseless.

"Toombs?"

Said man's head jerked up at the sound of his name. His eyes inspected the compact lethal body of the Asian, flicking over the lad's unusual light hazel eyes before landing on the brilliant shock of fire-red hair; which was the reason behind his name. The curly brown haired captain watched as his navigator plopped into a chair; threading his long fingers into the flame-like hair, pulling his face taunt.

"Toombs, man, what're we gonna do?"

"We go after Slade and Damion." He scoffed as he pulled himself from his chair and strolled over to the liquor cabinet. Needing something strong enough to knock him off his feet for a while, he grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and Vodka and two shot glasses before sitting back down at the table. With great care, he mixed the two drinks and poured himself a shot. "You see, the plan for me had always been to get a new crew because with every encounter I've had with Ms. Lucia D. Slade, and her sexy companion Damion, only I would usually be left alive.

In other words, Torch, I am basically telling you that you and Kevin are extremely lucky. As it seems, The _Beast_ and the Raven have taken a liking to you and Mr. Babola." He swallowed the dizzying liquid before pouring himself another and watched his drinking buddy swirl the contents of his shot.

"And what, may I ask, does that entail?" Torch watched the slight funnel form from within his drink.

_Heh, a smart one, hopefully he'll use that brain of his in this game. _Toombs thought before swallowing and then answering with a smirk. "That your life has been just royally fucked and you are now stuck in the deadly and never ending game of Tag." He poured another and threw back his head to drink its contents. "Don't worry; the fun part is just beginning. You'll get on the high thinking that maybe when you get close enough that you'll actually be able to catch her and receive the bounty that's floating above her head. I've also come to learn the golden rule: Use your brain and instincts and learn from the _beast_, and then she'll grant you a token and won't kill you."

Taking his last shot, he slammed the glass back on the table before getting to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me." And went stumbling to his room. Once inside, he fell on top of the covers with a grunt. As he gazed into the inkiness of the dark, Toombs found the old slight spark of fear of it ignite again. But subconsciously, the captain knew that it was only because of its relation to Slade. It really didn't help that the woman had 'Pitch Black' tattooed across the back of her shoulders. He remembered the time that he had asked her why it was there.

Flashback

"_I see you have the words pitch black tattooed on your back. Why?" Very carefully, Toombs lifted his boot clad foot and extinguished his cigarette on the sole while keeping his eye on the tanned woman in front of him. He didn't like how he couldn't see her eyes, since they were covered with a black blindfold, but a little part of him told him that he didn't want to see them. It would instill fear, and at the moment fear would get him killed. Though, he had to say, her being blindfolded put him in awe that she was skillful enough to not need sight. He watched as a smirk ate at the corners of her lips showing what he could only guess that telling by the length, it couldn't be anything else but a fang._

"_Pitch black is the color of my soul; where the monsters of the night come out and play. There are only two other people who trust me enough to look. No other being would like to peer inside... but maybe perhaps _you_ do. Possibly it is the reason behind your defective motivation to continue these games that I make you play."_

_He knew that she had skull-fucked many Mercs and Military Personnel, but for some reason Toombs knew that she wasn't fucking with him at the moment; nor did he think that she would _ever_ fuck with his mind. Call it instinct, but he had learned to follow it willingly. "It's a possibility, Dame Evil. It's a possibility, and maybe we'll find out later on in this fucked game."_

"_Perhaps." Was all that he got in reply before he blinked and she was gone._

End Flashback

_And still today_, Toombs thought tiredly,_ I can't figure out how she moves so silently and fast with those chains on her_ and_ blindfolded_.

Closing his eyes, Toombs' mind started to catch up with his body when he suddenly heard the door open. "Toombs? How long have you been stuck playing with Slade?" came the smooth voice of Torch.

Lifting his face from the crack of the pillows and turning his head into the thin stream of light that fell on him from the door, he squinted at his crewmate. A moment of silence passed between them as Toombs tried to rouse his brain up from the murky waters it was hiding in. "Three years. Three goddamn years of chasing her. And I have to say, it's a game I'm not really looking forward to ending. Maybe one day when we're able to catch them on the rare occasion of more than five meetings, I'll let you talk with her. She's very unusual, Torch. If you get up the courage she'll actually let you have a conversation with her. And ya wanna know why Dame'll let you?"

He noticed the blurry form of Torch nod.

"Because she knows that she can get away. Slade knows exactly how powerful she is. And ya know the other reason?" –He knew that the liquor was making him talk right now- "Because she's confident in her abilities, she only wants to talk to those who are confident in their own abilities. She likes the challenge. Plain and simple."

A/N: Yuppers, this one's longer. The next chapter is gonna be a short one though, but sigh the one after than should be kinda long.

Please Review.


	6. Chapter 6

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

When Jacquelyn Audrey Fox woke up this morning, she had the butterflies fluttering from within her stomach. And while waking up in a certain convict's arms did make her smile, it was not the reason for her nervous but happy feeling. Silently she got up right after Riddick and began to get ready for her forty-sixth day of training. When she entered the room they had deemed to be the "dojo", she started thirty push-ups and thirty sit-ups; then did it over again to complete sixty each. Lining herself up on the running track, she completed the standard twenty-five laps before sitting down to drink some water and wipe down her slightly sweating face.

"So Big Evil, how far and fast today?" she questioned.

He looked up for a spilt second before continuing to diligently clean his amazing collection of hand-made shivs. "Two miles in twelve minutes."

Without replying, she heard the stop-watch being set up. Lining herself up again, she readied before taking off and vaguely hearing Riddick start the watch. Suddenly she felt her body sink into an almost forgotten instinct. Leaning forward as if she were trying to fall on her face and her arms down at her waist, Jack propelled her body forward. Her mind went deliciously blank; set on one thing: running two miles in twelve minutes.

One minute she was just starting off and the next she found herself coming to a very sudden halt at the marker. Her two miles were over? Did she make it?

"I didn't make it, did I?"

"Didn't make it?" he repeated before shaking his head and glancing at the stop watch. "Kid…you did it in ten minutes three seconds. What I don't understand is that the way you were running, I was half afraid you were gonna fall flat on yer face. But then, it looked as if it worked, so I won't really comment. Did you learn it somewhere, or did you make it up?"

Still blinking from surprise at her time, Jack quickly shook her head and answered him. "It's called a samurai run; those people on Old Earth who lived by the sword in Ancient Japan. They always had to be ready to draw their blades, so one hand, like my right, would always be on the handle of my sword that would rest on my left hip, while my left hand would be on the sheath to stead it." Shortly she showed him how it would look before sitting down on the ground. She wondered for a split second why he himself didn't know this tad-bit of information, before she came to the conclusion that he was more of a highly knowledgeable street fighter.

"You seem to know a lot about that. Who taught you?"

"A friend of mine; she taught me a great deal and still has more to teach me, I'm sure. The problem is, I've got to find her before the law does." Jack smirked, "Then again, she excels in just about everything including hiding away, so I think it's safe to believe she's alright."

A companionable silence fell over them as both were lost within their own thoughts. Jack felt the full weight of Riddick's stare on her, but she paid it no mind. She knew that he was too immersed in his own mind to actually pay attention to the little things that she did. Well, if you call getting up and creeping to the door and leaving…then yeah. As Jack got dressed in her boy get-up, she made sure that the shiv that Riddick had given her was tucked safely in the waistband of her pants; just like she saw how Riddick did.

_Or maybe he just _let_ me leave._ She thought as she went through the cargo bay to the ramp and then spirited away into the city at dark.

A/N: Yeah, it doesn't seem like something important, but at least in the chapter after the one after this, you won't be wondering how she got out into the city. nods Yesh, so don't question it's importance, while not big, it is a minor but very appreciated detail.

Flamers excepted. Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Seven**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

She was some where different; she knew it. It wasn't that she could see it; no, she could only see the dark inkiness of pitch black. It was all that she ever saw. But it was the feel of the air, and the scents that filled it that told her she was some where different. She shifted slightly, the thick iron shackles on her wrists rubbing against her skin. Vaguely she wondered how dark it was now; her skin that is. The chain that connected her wrists together was only the length of her full arm span, wrist to wrist. The same with her feet, though the chain was shorted to limit her speed. Unconsciously, she lifted her straight nose into the air and sniffed delicately. It would've been unnoticeable if she hadn't of lifted her head, but it wasn't as if she cared; it wasn't like anyone she didn't know was watching her do it. The scent of vanilla and oranges filled her hyper-sensitive nostrils.

"Damion." She purred around the horse bit in her mouth. Her keen hearing picked up the faint clink of boots on the metal floor, and she felt the coolness of a shadow fall upon her muscular form.

"Yes, sister?" a sweet voice filled the air. The only way she could compare it to was the singing of angels; and she would be damned if anyone touched her angel, and if so, she would smite them to eternal hell and back again.

"Where are we?" she had no problems growling from behind the metal safety strip. She felt the other reach forward and tug lightly on the chains connecting her wrists, pulling her to her feet. She looked down, knowing without having to see that she towered over the smaller woman. "Damion?"

"We are on the _Escapade_. Mercs chased me back, and I'm gettin' us off of this damnable planet. And by the way, Toombs says 'hi'." The woman, Damion, gave the taller a slight push in the muscled stomach to get her to sit in the co-pilot's seat. "Those restraints look very uncomfortable, Slade…do you want me to loosen the chains so you can navigate?"

"No; they're fine." The slight snarl escaped from Slade's mouth; she could feel Damion's topaz eyes gaze at her. Turning her head to look up at her sister as if she could see her, she cocked it to the side.

Damion was reminded of a tiger locked into a bronze beast's body. It was amazing really how deeply golden the female sitting in the co-pilot's seat skin could get; she was almost jealous of Slade, since her own skin tone could only get to a peachy golden color.

It was relieving ,though, to see that the short shock of snow white hair never changed, and neither did the general and unnatural build of the beast of a woman's body. Damion knew that that was what had helped Slade pull off the act of being a boy in her adolescent years, but when she had grown into a woman's body, it had been difficult, so she just stopped the illusion.

It was inconceivable, really. The snowy haired female was about 5'11", the body of a golden panther, and the aura of a demon hell beast with a calm rage like no other.

She knew that she shouldn't really be impressed about Slade's muscular build, but she couldn't help it. She herself was only about three quarters the taller female's size all together at barely 5'7", but Damion knew she was just about as dangerous. She had been trained by the Evil herself.

_And it does add to the mix that we're in the very top slot of every Merc's and Bounty Hunter's lists._ She took the moment to grin. _With a body count of over seven hundred together, and a price of 18 mil on our heads, that's not too bad._ Slouching into the pilot's seat, she let the auto pilot take control.

"Can we keep running like this, Slade?" she asked, noticing how her beast of a sister's ears twitched and her sharp featured face turned to her voice.

"We don't have much of a choice in the matter. It is run, get killed or sent to slam." A smirk ate at the corners of the snowy haired female's full lips, "Though I wouldn't mind getting sent back to Slam, it isn't a place for such a pure spirit as yerself, Damion. You might be considered a killer to Mercs, but it was I who did most of the slaughter."

Damion frowned, topaz eyes staring at the black blindfold that covered her sister's eyes, leaving the caramel skinned convict in the dark. It was something Damion did not like. She liked to look into her elder's eyes to see the reassurance she needed, but with those all seeing orbs covered it made her feel as if she were in the dark with her sister also.

"Slade…" She whispered, but the other woman ignored the murmur of her name.

It was one thing to know that her sister was a convict to the bone, but it was another to hear her sister accept those killings that she had accomplished with the beast. Seriously, Damion didn't see how Slade didn't feel guilt and remorse. But then it was Damion's sense of unity with animals that made her so in tune to her sister. It was why she hadn't been angry at Slade when she had found her in the flow of their parents' life force when she was naught but a cubling…

Damion shook her head to rid it of the thoughts about when they had first begun their lives on the run. Damion had once been known as Kayce Mitchell Damion before switching to just her last name. She had been only nine when they became convicted fugitives, with a twelve-year-old Slade looking after her.

Looking out of the window, she saw that they were already a short star-leap from the planet they had been on: Cerevon. As she got up to follow Slade to the convict's room, she began to think about one of their young friends she had seen there. When she was lowering the temperature in the dark, dank and barren room, she was slightly startled to hear Slade's voice.

"Was she happy?"

Damion blinked, "Lil' Fox?" at her companion's silence, she nodded. "She looked happy and healthy. I-I think that she might be better off with…with that Riddick character." She noticed the caramel fingers twitch for a second before Slade's head slouched forward.

"He'll take good care of her. I know he will."

Squinting slightly at her elder, Damion's hand dropped back to her side. "You had wanted him to find and care for her. Of all the people to take care of her besides us…it was him."

As the other woman turned her blindfolded head as if looking at her, Damion almost _saw_ the sadness radiating from her, but her shoulders were held in triumph. _So_, Damion thought,_ she's not happy that the kid won't be around anymore, but she's happy that she succeeded in getting a new and possibly better caretaker_. A remorseful grin ate at her lips. _A sad triumph. That's all that your _life_ has been, Slade. A sad triumph. _Eyes stinging slightly, Damion pulled a black throw from Slade's bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"C'mere cub." Slade's cool flowing, slightly deep purring voice washed over her and the chains chimed almost sweetly as she opened her arms invitingly. In a flash, Damion had ducked under the links and into the warmth of her sister and protector. Trickles of water flowed lightly from her eyes as the golden arms of her knight in tarnished armor folded gently around her. Rubbing her nose into Slade's collarbone, Damion sighed shakily.

"We'll keep an eye out for her, right? Keep surveillance, make sure nothing bad happens?"

The body wrapped around her tightened its hold momentarily. This action seemed to calm the younger woman, yet still she stayed in the strong arms, perfectly trusting of the hands that had killed hundreds. Underneath her own hands, Damion could hear and feel the steady beating of Slade's heart. It was strong and much slower than her own heart rate, but coupled with the deep, slow breaths of powerful lunges; it had a very soothing effect on her. For a moment, her brain wondered why the heart beat and breathing of such a large and healthy person was so slow.

Shouldn't it be much faster because of the demand of oxygen and the need of so much blood distribution? But then Damion knew what she could hear and feel; and she could perfectly count every two of her heart beats and breaths to one of each from Slade.

Storing that information for later, Damion relaxed herself fully against the solid body next to her as her companion settled down comfortably on the bed in a sitting position.

"Is the room cold enough for you?" The action of another blanket being wrapped around only her, gave Damion her answer. At 45° F, the room was just right for Slade. Her golden skin felt like fire to the touch, and Damion knew that even though Slade could take it to about 35° F, she wasn't saying anything because Damion was there.

"The last thing I need is you getting a cold." The purr vibrated through her chest and Damion's fingers. '…_because of me_.'

Lids closing over topaz eyes, a smile bloomed on her face as she caught that understood yet very much un-said part at the end. "Good night Slade." She responded sleepily. What she got in rely was a soft cat-like purring deep within the chest she was snuggled against; a purr that the snowy haired female could keep up for hours on end and never stop, if she wanted. Not even sleep could stop it. Damion knew this because the animal-like woman had done it to put her to rest so many times in her childhood.

The last thing she remembered as she fell asleep was how happy she was to have such an adventurous life.

A/N: So what do you think about the top wanted cons? Tell me about any ideas about what you think is going on. I'll bet that you won't have a clue.

Please review.


	8. Chapter 8

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Eight**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

She was out of breath, but she kept it under control and ran anyway. Jack knew she was testing her limits, but when you have Mercs chasing you, you tend to push yourself over and beyond the limits. Jack knew, because she had done it many times.

_One, two. One, two. One, two._ She thought to keep her running steady. _C'mon, Jack! Just four more miles and the _Killer Eclipse_ and Riddick will be _right there

_Yeah but anything could happen in those four miles,_ Jack's mind fabricated what Riddick would say._ Keep yer shiv ready_,_ Kid_.

"C'mon Fox! We got you, so stop runnin'!" She heard the Merc's taunts, and pushed herself farther. Jack was no fool, she knew that the only reason they were pursuing her since the other side of town, was because she had already killed three of their crew. It was just her luck that they were an eight man party.

"Alright, Jack, two more miles, just two more!" She whispered fiercely under her breath. Taking a deep breath so her sides wouldn't cramp, she leveled her breathing back out with her steps. First step, inhale. Second step, exhale; and repeat the cycle over again. Jack snickered in her mind, _Yeah she once told me that keeping short breaths in short amounts of time strengthens your lungs. Yeah, of course she would know, the damn animal._

As she came to the opening, the dark docking area came into view, and yet she could still hear their comments piercing the air.

"Damn, boss! AJ sure does have a nice ass! I kind of hate to see what would happen to the boy when we send him to Slam!" the one right on her heels laughed. He was the weapons engineer on deck; a big black man, possibly bigger than Riddick.

Angrily, Jack rounded the corner. As she looked toward the _Killer Eclipse_ she saw that the ramp was just setting down and -low and behold- none other than Riddick himself was just stuffing his goggles into one of the pockets on his cargos as he caught eye of her with her back to the corner. _Don't move you idiot_. She tried to project her thoughts to him as she heard the heavy steps of the black man.

Once she saw him stop at the opening of the alleyway and saw him glance around the docking area, she made her move. Snaking her flexible body around his waist then his torso and finally wrapping her long legs around his chest from behind, she wound her arms around his neck and quickly jerked her left elbow to the right; effectively snapping his neck. As his lifeless body began to wobble, she climbed quickly to his shoulders and pushed off from there with her feet, receiving a boost to spring into a dead run again. She licked her lips, a panic induced action, only to taste the blood that had splattered on her face during her kill of the two men and one woman that had once belonged to the crew. Jack watched as Riddick tensed, and she knew that they had found the fourth body of their weapons engineer.

Jack heard someone –maybe the captain- swear before her hearing zoned in on a whistling. _What would She do! What would She do! What would the damn animal do!_

She let her instincts take over.

Dropping into a dodge, she rolled to her left side. The sound of the harpoon-net struck the spot she had been in just an instant earlier. _Thank god for second instincts_. Jack thought as she rolled onto her feet and fell into the dead run once more. _Ya know, I'm starting to get used to this again_. The inclination of the ramp was horror on her thigh muscles as her feet made her stumble into the cargo hold. She heard the ramp close and knew that she was safe with Riddick. Following him up the ladder, and into the second level where the mess hall and the living quarters were, Jack felt the adrenaline rush escape her body leaving it weary. Vaguely she noticed that the ship was already prepped for leaving.

Were Riddick and Imam going to leave her if she hadn't come running back? Had Riddick been opening the ramp and going to go look for her? Or did he just plain know that she was on her way, running from the Mercs?

These thoughts flew through her mind as she let her body drop onto the floor, and leaning her head back on the wall. "Ello, ello, my body feels like Jell-O." She heard Riddick absently snort at her dazed murmur as he ignored command tower, cursed them out and took off. It was a good thing they always kept the ship neat and clean and always prepped for flight. She grabbed a hold of the back of the co-pilot's chair as they launched into space. Not even five seconds after being out of the planet's atmosphere, Jack felt the deep-space drive start to heat up and Riddick made a wild long star-leap.

"Alright, kid," his deep resonating voice meant no funny stuff, "Why in _fuck's name_ was there a five man crew of Mercs chasing your skinny ass?"

"Not a five man," she corrected, panting, "Eight."

"_Eight!_" The surprise was evident in his voice, "What the _shit_ did you do to get an eight man crew after you? What happened to the other three?"

_Obviously he didn't _look_ at me when I was haulin' my ass_, she thought. Just as Jack was opening her mouth to tell him, Riddick turned around. She knew that he knew what was splattered on her face and shirt, and she saw his body tense yet again. "I killed them." She with drew her shiv to show him the blood stains that didn't get wiped away.

Riddick quickly assessed her appearance. Obviously she had killed before because of the lack of injuries on her part. _Either that or she's a damn leprechaun with all the luck in the world._ "Why were they after you?" he asked, truly calm now that he was sure that he had figured out some of the enigma.

Jack knew that if Riddick had been standing, he would have been pacing a ditch in the floor by now. "I have a bounty on my head."

"Well no shit Sherlock!" he replied sarcastically. "_Anybody_ with Mercs on their ass ought to have bounty floatin' over their damn head. But Christ, kid? What did you do back there?"

Jack took a deep breath. _Should I tell him?_ She thought. The mind-fabricated Riddick told her yes, as well as the real one. _Oh, damn, I don't know if I'm gonna be able to tell him face to face though. Let him read my file_... _I just hope he doesn't go all ballistic on me. _"Check out the file named 'Fox, AJ' in the Universal Wanted List."

She closed her eyes and felt his gaze on her face before the clicking of the computer station alerted her that he was indeed doing what she had suggested. Jack let her over worked muscles relax as she sat on the floor behind the co-pilot seat. She was vaguely aware of the minutes as they passed by her, the clicking of the keys lulling her into the state between alertness and sleep. Soon what she guessed as maybe forty-five minutes later, perhaps, she heard the pilot's chair turn to face her. Cracking her eyes open, she saw the slight frown that marred Riddick's brow.

"So the 'friend' that you know," he began, "just happens to be Lucia Dante Slade; the Dame of all Convicts and Kayce Mitchell Damion; the convict/computer hacker. If I woulda known that your 'friends' were the Slade and Damion sisters, I woulda thought twice about you needin' street smarts."

He smirked and got up from his chair before bending down to lift Jack up from her dazed position. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up before Imam wakes up and sees you like this. He'll go into some kind of religious what-not to 'cleanse' you or whatever."

"'Mazing he could even sleep through yer turbulent flying skills." She murmured and walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

As Riddick stood there gazing at the spot he had seen her last through the door, he shook his head in wonder. _If I woulda known that you were in the Big Leagues, kid, don't know what I woulda thought of you. But I know it probably wouldn't have been pretty._

A/N: Well, does that supply any of the first set of mysteries? What do you think is gonna happen now? I'm kinda mad that nobody has taken the time to review my story; y'know, I could probably just stop writing it, see what would happen then? Oh, whatever, I'll most likely write, but just not update in a while. Let's see, yeah, I want at least four reviews until I update again. I mean, I've given you people eight friggin chapters today. But most likely I'll just post anyway...whatever.

WTF Mates?

Anyway, tell me what you think, I'm interested to see if what I'm thinking is what you people are thinks…though, it probably ain't.

Nobody can steal my crackers! MU-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Flamers excepted. Please review.


	9. Chapter 9

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Nine**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

Jack leaned against the wall of the shower stall, letting her body drip dry. Her head was spinning woozily and coupled with being light headed, she wasn't a very happy camper. Throwing a towel around her body, she stumbled into the room Riddick shared with her. Even with the lights at twenty percent, she had gotten used to it for her roomie's sake, Jack could see most perfectly. She bypassed the bed where Riddick was laying down on, and went straight to her dresser to pull out something to sleep in. Not giving her breast binding bandages another glance, Jack pulled out a black sports bra and a pair of silk black fem boxers.

Without another thought, she promptly dropped her towel pulled the boxers over her blooming hips and yanked the spandex bra on before leaning onto the wall and dropping her head against it. "Oh, god…" she moaned breathlessly.

"What's wrong?" Riddick growled as he propped himself up on an elbow and gazed at the teenager; concern riddled his face.

"Geez, Riddick," Jack mumbled, she just couldn't help pick at him a little, no matter how bad she felt. "If I would've known you were God, I wouldn't have tried to keep anything secret from you from the beginning."

Riddick frowned for a second not liking the thoughts that decided to accompany her statement. "Kid, you don't look too good." He answered instead as he watched her slide to the floor and sit down. She almost looked drunk and high at the same time, but in a painful way.

"Oh, I see…so yer sayin' I look like shit?" Jack looked up at him slightly from her position on the ground.

"Yup." He replied. Noticing the dirty look that was pointed his way, Riddick shrugged, "Hey, I'm an honest man. I don't lie to the people who I've been with when going through hell and back and survived."

"Hey, I never lied to you," she pointed a finger at the convict who shared a room with her. "you never asked, so I didn't tell. I merely didn't tell you the details of my life. So, please, Riddick-God, have mercy on this poor somewhat jaded soul, and help me move."

"Poor and jaded soul, my ass." As Riddick lifted his body from the bed with silent and majestic grace, Jack grinned lazily at him. "Kid, I mean it, you don't look too good. You feel light-headed?"

Jack let go of all control of her body and mumbled, "Yeah. Since I got out of the shower."

"Let me guess, you took a hot one, huh?" His lips pursed as he carried her to the mess room. Punching in the order for a glass of cold orange juice, Riddick sat the slender girl down on one of the squishy booth like seats. "Here, sip on this and take these." He presented the glass of OJ and two aspirins.

Quickly downing the two pills, she did what he told her to, and sipped on the orange colored breakfast beverage as he sat down opposite of her. Laying her head down on the table after a good couple of sips she began to feel a little better and not to mention a bit drowsy, "Thanks Riddick…fer everything."

In response, she felt one of his large paws caress her downy reddish-brown hair, threading it back to the nape of her neck before repeating the process. Sighing, Jack let her body relax as he pet her; once in a while his fingers would brush against the vertebra of her neck causing her to relax even farther into a dangerously drowsy state.

"Mmmmm…s'alright kid." He purred sleepily; the vibrations charging his hand making her skull tingle. Jack could tell that he was just as ready to drop to the mattress as she was, but he was struggling against the Sand Man. It was quite for a little while, before his deep voice broke it again. "I guess we'll just have to get to know one another again, huh, Jack?"

She could hear the proud smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it. Shrugging awkwardly, her shoulder gently nudging her un-smushed cheek, Jack hummed a bit in the back of her throat. "I guess, since obviously we don't know each other as much as both of us believe." Groggily, she lifted her head and caught Riddick's falling hand in one of her smaller ones, shaking it slowly and started with a grin, "Hi. My name's Jacquelyn Audrey Fox. The Mercs and the Law know me as AJ, while Slade first gave me the name Lil' Fox and Damion uses it too, though she usually calls me Jack. Me? I prefer to be called just Jack. I'm sixteen, have green eyes, auburn hair, and stand to five feet, five inches and weigh one hundred twenty four pounds.

My mother had left me on the side of the street after leaving the hospital. Orphanage took me in; I ended up running away at the age of ten. I am wanted on twenty different planets and have a bounty of 6mil on my head. I first met up with Slade on an off chance as she was scaling a brick wall at the age of eleven; she was about sixteen at that time and we were both running from some Mercs on that planet. She grabbed me and raced to her partner who was on their ship, prepping for emergency flight. Ever since I had been in their care and learned the tricks of escaping and killing. How 'bout cho?"

Riddick whistled lightly, before grinning and folding his arms to his chest. "Sounds like a hell of a life, but I'm sure you just gave me the watered down version, eh?" at her wide smile, he shook his head and chuckled before starting. "Richard Brian Riddick, but everyone knows me as Riddick since I first started out in the Military School before continuing on to the Marine's Special Ops Core. There had been a female that our superiors kept a hard eye on who broke out while I was there; it was kind of weird she was young like me among all the older males. I finally took her example and left two months later also, and thus my record started. You know most of it from there. I've got about 9mil on my name for going on seven hundred kills and countless accounts of stealing and attempts of such." The large fugitive grinned wickedly at her, his silver eyes glinting in the low light.

After sharing a sort of forced smile, Jack yawned, "'Kay, so can we go to bed now?" as she laid her head back down on the table with a dull thud. She heard Riddick snort before the very soft sound of his feet on the floor alerted her that he had gotten up. "Hey!" she called somewhat angrily, "Yer not gonna carry me to bed?"

"Hell no, kid. I know that Slade didn't baby you _that_ much when you lived with her, and there ain't no way that I'm gonna do it either. If you wanna sleep in a bed, Jack, then I expect you to follow me yerself." His voice resonated slightly in the hallway. As he walked into their dark room, Riddick heard the adolescent groan and the dull thud of her head hitting the table again. With a hint of a smirk on his face he called out to her again, "If yer gonna sleep there, Jack, do me a favor and don't drool on it. I don't really think Imam is going to like it to know that the table had been spit shined before he drops his toast on it again and turns to eat it instead of throwing it out."

"Fuck you, Riddick." She cursed him with no small amount of ire.

"Gladly." He answered, knowing that it would just end up ticking her off a bit more as he took off his tank top and boots, then pulled back the covers and laid down on his back.

"You sick pedophile." Jack answered lightly before moving into the bedroom stretching shortly then climbing none too gently over Riddick's large body; she also made sure to press her knee into his crotch just for good measure, smirking as she heard him exhale sharply. _That's what you get, you bastard_, she thought smugly. And with the same smugness, "Good night Riddick." Ignoring the very colorful names and the horrible things that he spoke of doing to her; Jack ignored them, because she knew that while it was customary to call her those names, he would not pull through with those threats.

And as she finally fell into the gentle grasp of Sleep's soft dark hands, Jack vaguely felt the chain she always kept around her neck spill out of her sports bra as she turned onto her side away from Riddick.

Riddick cut his quick silver eyes at the sleeping teenager as he felt the last stab of pain course through his lower half. _Damn that wench_…_I'll teach her not to mess with Richard B. Riddick soon enough_. The young convict thought before heaving a sigh. _Yeah, and the moment Slade comes around to check on the kid, I'll be in deep shit. But it's not like I can't handle a female_.

'_Don't kid yerself, Dick, you've seen the things that that particular female can do, an' it ain't no where near pretty._' A familiar voice whispered to him.

_Oh, shuddup, won't ya? I've got enough problems without you deciding it's time to show up and give me pointers on how to live my fuckin' life, buddy._ Riddick cursed his piece of humanity that had reattached itself to him when the pilot Carolyn Fry had been taken from his grasp on the damnable planet T2.

Sighing, the convict rolled over onto his side, facing the back of the teenager he had just been previously cussing out. The soft sound of 'cla-clink' caught his attention. Lifting his body on an elbow, he bent over the small yet athletic body of the girl. Gently reaching over her, he picked up the object that had made the soft sound.

What his fingers caught on made his eyebrows shoot up in surprise; and Riddick was sure that if he had hair, that the bold and majestic arcs would've disappeared in it.

Running his thumb over the metal plates, he almost gazed at the dog tags lovingly, suddenly missing having his own pair around his neck. That is before he saw what was engraved on them. Once again, Riddick feared he would've lost his brows.

Slade

Lucia D

696999666 USMC: Special Ops

Unknown

Atheist

Riddick suddenly felt his lungs aching, and realized that he had neglected his body of oxygen as he gazed at the tags. Then his thoughts began rushing, completing circles at 99mph, until finally his brain slowed down and settled on one.

_Slade was in the Marine's Special Ops_…she_ was that girl._ He could not get over the fact that the same child who he and many others in the Ops believed to be deaf and dumb, was now in fact the most wanted killer in the Universe, and had a reputation to scare even the Boogie Man and Satan himself. Then as his eyes landed on the child sleeping peacefully at his side, a new thought bombarded his mind.

_Jack's happenstance into me was not just that._ Riddick stared at the girl in disbelief, suddenly seeing the young eleven year old Lucia laying there instead of Jack. _She planned it_…_all of it_._ Jack getting on the Hunter-Gratnzer and getting with me_._ You are one unbelievable _bitch_, Lucia. I hope you know that_.

A/N: I hope this is good enough. And I hope I'm portraying Riddick well enough. Tell me if you like this chapter, I've started ten, and I hope it meets the expectations also.


	10. Chapter 10

**By: MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Ten**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

Something new:

'.' basically means flitting between the present and the past really fast…too fast to actually be a flash back.

_Now_ you can go on to the story .

"…I'm gonna take 'em all down; Riddick, Damion _and_ Slade. They ain't all that they're made out to be…fucking nobodies. Bastard convicts, all of 'em."

Toombs sipped on a sherry as a bunch of loud mouthed green-hunters chattered at the bar. Calmly he listened to the leader's snobby comments, a sliver of ire jolting through him. _If Slade were here, she'd laugh her ass off in front of them, finish her White Russian, then turn around and skull-fuck 'em_…_slowly_. The captain smirked at his thoughts, wishing that very moment that the fem-convict who everybody thought was a man had been sitting in front of him, in the empty seat.

"Eh, buddy if you wanna go after that bastard Slade, I'd get with that fella over there. 'E's been tracking 'im down for three years or more now. Practically knows how the guy works."

Toombs heard the bartender speak softly to the newbies, then felt the weight of the group's gazes on his skull. There was a shuffle of feet and gear before the snobby voice of the green-Merc scraped against his ears.

"So I hear yer trackin' the bastards Slade and Damion. Seems to me those three years of tracing their steps, only goes to show you how obsolete you are, pop."

_Pop! I ain't that old buddy!_ Despite his angry thoughts, Toombs calmly set his sherry down with a soft audible 'click'. Not even turning his head to look at the young buck, he answered. "First rule in this business: Learn yer prey; understand him. Second rule: don't get killed by being a fuckin' dumb ass."

"That's all you gotta say ta me, pop!" The youth asked angrily.

"No…but what I do have to say is: Never underestimate your opponent." With the speed earned by years of dodging shivs and bullets, Toombs snaked his left forearm around the younger man's waist to pull a knife free from the waistband, lifted his body from his seat, and twisted the boy around so that his face was smashed against a nearby support beam. Toombs' right forearm pressing against his exposed cheek and neck, the curly haired Merc quickly yanked his left arm around and pressed the blade of the boy's own knife against a vertebrae, the left of his spinal cord.

Toombs could feel the youth panting harshly while he was breathing as if nothing had happened. "Just to the left of the spine, fourth lumbar down, the abdominal aorta. It's called the Sweet Spot. Bury this knife there and I'll have yer blood staining my hands in less than two minutes flat. Would you like to know who happened to teach me that, _boy_?" Toombs snarled.

"Yer fuckin' teachers-"

"Wrong." He pressed the knife closer, a silent threat. "Slade. You learn a lot from convicts if you get the chance and play yer cards right, boy."

Whirling away from the green-hunter, Toombs slipped the knife into his own waistband, downed the sherry and marched toward the door, scowling darkly. "Remember that, you brown-nosed, piss drinking, cock teasing, cum by gut guzzling gutter pussy."

He continued his pace even after he had removed himself from the low lighted bar and straight out into the darkness of New London. Gazing at the lights of the city, he snarled before turning the opposite way; straight into the barely lit alleyways of warehouses, clubs and bars.

About five blocks down, Toombs heard the very soft sounds of someone jogging. Grumbling, the Merc pulled out a cigarette and fished many pockets before finding his lighter.

"Whaddya want, kid?" he asked as he heard the person stop to the side of him. "If you don't speak up soon, I'm gonna leave. Yer wastin' my time."

"Wait!" the youth called as Toombs began to walk. The Merc obliged. "Wait…I heard you were trackin' the Con-X…Slade."

A moment of silence as Toombs stiffened slightly.

"I wanna help you go after her."

To say that Jason Gabriel Toombs was shocked that this…this –child! knew Slade's true gender put him slightly on the defensive for the convict. Toombs roughly grabbed the tall and muscular youth and thrust him against one of the nearest alleyway's brick walls. "What. Do. You. Want." he growled as the first few drops of rain splattered on his head.

The tanned almost Asian looking young male nearly rolled his eyes, but the smile came easy. "I already told you, Jason Toombs, I wanna help you chase Slade and Damion in this game you three have going on."

After a moment of contemplation on Toombs' part, he spoke as the sky opened his arms and allowed rain to fall heavily on them. "What's yer name kid?"

"Everyone calls me Sea-breeze." The boy no older than twenty smirked gently.

"Alright, Sea-breeze, there's only three rules. Rule one: When I give an order, you follow it. Rule two: Keep up. And Rule three: Use yer instincts and brain at all times. If you live after an encounter with one of them, they'll accept you into their game, whether that be fortunately or ill-will, I won't give a shit." Toombs watched as the boy smiled. _This kid ain't gonna last a second against _Lil' Fox_, much less Damion or worse_…_Slade and Riddick_. Shaking his head as if to rid it of his thoughts, the brown haired man sneered at the youth, "I'll meet you at the Brooke and Bark Café tomorrow at 0900 hours sharp. If yer not there, I'll leave with out ya. Now get outta here."

Toombs watched as the young Merc ran back the way he came, before turning on his heel and continuing down the alleyway. The rain had already plastered his curly brown hair to his head and face, Toombs was glad that all his gear was waterproof. The alleys were dark, but the slight shine of the rain bouncing off the asphalt and the materials lining the way helped him see.

_Well, now I need to recruit at least one more or maybe two. All I know is that a four man crew isn't gonna cut it._ As thoughts along these lines entered his head, he calmly continued into the maze of New London's underbelly. Every now and then he thought he heard someone following him, but after looking over both shoulders into the dim lighted darkness that fell behind and in front of him, he just shrugged it off; only to tense again thinking he heard the slight teasing creak of leather and neoprene boots and a note of chains clinking together. _I'm just over paranoid, that's all._

The rain began to fall harder, and this time he was sure he heard the very soft sound of boots against brick, and chain against metal. Swinging his head to the left and to the right, Toombs twisted his body around, trying to see all of his surroundings. A low growl filled the air in the area, making his suspicions come to life and he felt that sliver of fear crowd at the bottom of his stomach.

The fear of the Dark.

"_Mommy, why don't the Boogie Man come out into the park at night?" the little boy asked his mother as he held her hand and walked with her through the dark and misty tree lined park._

"_Because, Jason, he lives in the closet instead." His mother answered. They continued to walk in the silence of the open area, their breaths puffs of white in the air._

"No, I'm not going to remember that." Toombs snarled to himself, yet he could not help the foreboding sensation that grew in his body. He kept his eyes open and searching in the rain.

"_Mommy? What's wrong?" Jason asked, looking up into his mother's tense face as she stood still, looking back into the darkness that nipped at their heels. He watched as she turned to face him._

"_Nothing, Jason; nothing." She answered before glancing to her left and to her right and started walking again at a brisker pace._

"_Mommy?" he asked worriedly and his gaze questioning._

"Stop. I _don't want_ to remember." Toombs whispered, grinding his teeth. He shivered as a rivulet began down the back of his neck, past the collar of his shirt and down his back. His plea went unheard and his mind's eye was flooded with the scenes.

"_Come on, Jason. Hurry, love. You don't want the Boogie man to get us, do you?"_

_Jason caught the playful glint in his mother's eyes as she looked down at him, and he quickly smiled up at her, his eyes closing upon doing so. As his brown orbs opened, in horror he watched as two arms born only of the encroaching darkness lay their hands on his mother's shoulders. _

_Something registered in her green irises that Jason would know later as terror as she was yanked from his grasp. Her mouth split to form a scream, yet nothing came out as she was bodily picked up by the shoulders and then vanished into the darkness; never to be seen of again, leaving an emotionally horrified son behind._

Toombs fought viscously against his fear. Fear would get him killed…to fear it would mean that it had been real…

The sound of chain links against metal wire alerted Toombs that there was someone fucking with him. Looking over his left and right shoulders he saw no one though. The tense atmosphere was starting to make his stomach cramp…or was it that he was getting ready to empty it of his food…?

Following a sudden gut instinct, he looked up.

The rain bounced off bronze skin, dark charcoal skin fitting pants with pockets like cargos, dull black leather and neoprene boots, black tank-top and blindfold.

"_Goddamn it_, Slade!" He cursed, slicking his hair back with both hands. Toombs watched as her white hair dripped water on her shoulders and sharp falcon featured face as she cocked a perfectly sculptured brow in a question; head angled to face him, and Toombs knew that _she_ knew exactly what he looked like. "What the fuck is wrong with you woman! Hangin' up there lookin' like yer attached to the fuckin' wall and shit. Well, I'm just fuckin' Famous Amos today, eh?…What the hell do _you_ want?"

He saw that infuriating smirk flit across those lips- that he had only usually seen snarling and baring the sharp teeth they hid- only for it to vanish as soon as it came.

"I just came to see how my favorite Con-hunter was. As for what's wrong with me…well, we both know the certain dangers of going in that direction of my large file."

A silence reigned between them where Toombs noticed that the fem-convict was highly relaxed in the sensation and sound of the rain. He took the moment to take reassurance from Slade's presence, knowing that nothing would wish to come after them with her wild dangerous aura and demeanor. Nothing would take him in the cover of the darkness…

"Toombs…" the silky growl emanating from the woman's chest gently caught his attention. "The kid…Lil' Fox that is…"

"She isn't with you any more is she?" Toombs asked, finding it interesting that she seemed to pause as if gathering her words; and Slade, from what Toombs knew, always thought her words over before saying them. "Damion was mad as hell at you, wasn't she, when she found out you gave her another guardian?" He watched her as she watched him.

_If I had to guess, AJ would be with someone a lot like Slade_…_same kind of honor_…_same kind of instinct_…_someone she could've known in her past_…Toombs thought, his brows lowering as he began to pull the threads on this small puzzle Slade had presented to him. _Oh shit_…

"Riddick…" The Merc let his jaw go slack. "She's alright, right? What were you thinking, Lucia! Yer the number one slick shit Merc killer, but that guy…! He's psycho! He's schizophrenic; I remember him from before I gave chase to you, and before I let Johns over run me."

He could see her shoulders slump just a millimeter; she was saddened by this too. He could tell.

"I know he'll take care of her. Lil' Fox is smart, she'd have made sure she dug a hole in his shield and will make herself a warm home there. He won't be able to hurt her."

"How are you sure, Slade?" Toombs asked, curious.

The corner of her mouth quirked, "Riddick and I are extremely alike…Jack did the same to me."

And like that she was gone as soon as he blinked.

Shaking his head, Toombs smirked to himself and ran a hand through his hair. Upon walking through the maze of alleyways towards the docking bay where his ship was, Jason Toombs knew that she was following him; making sure that nobody or no_thing_ messed with him on his way to the _Wake of Darkness_; of which he had –in a sense- named after Slade. As he punched in the code to the cargo entrance, he felt the sudden chill with a warm after affect creep down his spine. He knew Slade was near and watching him closely…

"I'll accept Sea-breeze, teach him to be a good fighter."

Toombs had to strain to hear her words, but he understood her and silently thanked her for _her_ understanding as he closed the ramp. He, as always with every meeting with Slade, learned more about the fugitive and her complex ways. As the Merc went to bed, he began having doubts about whether he actually wanted to collect that bounty from her head…but of course he wanted that bounty…!

_Right?_

A/N: Yeah. So a little bit more into the character of Toombs. Do any of you know the full reason behind this story's title? I'll give the one to figure it out a cookie, and another update without needing reviews. I'm thinking about publishing this with different names. Tell me what you think. And has anybody thought was where this story _might_ be going?

Flamers expected. Please review.


	11. Chapter 11

**By:** **MataruDoukotsu**

**Taming the Beast**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Riddick universe, no matter how sad it is. One thing is for sure, Riddick is hot. The one man who can pull off buff and bald is Vin Diesel and the character he plays in this series.

Now on to the story.

XXX

He was _not_ pleased. This _whole_ thing was frustrating, if he could, he would damn the Project to hell for the mess ups that had occurred throughout its continuation. Over ten times did they almost totally demolish the Project and one like the Perfect Solider Project was not a project that could just be done with; especially with ten specimens. And out of the ten, four were oblivious and running from the Regime.

Of those four, two just happened to be the most dangerous people in the universe, another happened to be an inventor genius whose main object is to create artillery, and the last is the bridge to them all with ties to all three and the want to become an apprentice to the _Beasts_.

The Project had first started twenty-two years ago with the one who the Regime wanted to be the dominant over the whole pack. The Regime had thought of the specimens as a wolf pack, but the unexpected happened, four had run; escaped and became…perfect. They came out to be _everything_ that the Regime scientists wanted, but they all went mentally unstable. The two killers went through psychosis and turned into untamable beasts.

The second specimen was perfect. PSPLDS2 was the ideal Perfect Solider; unlike PSPRBR1, she had the ability to _change forms_. The scientists that were in charge of seeing to the female hosts pregnancy were in total awe as the subject had repeatedly switched from a human form to something that looked much like a _kitten_. The changing had pained the host throughout her eighth going on ninth month until the subject had just stopped. After the birth, scientists had monitored PSPLDS2, hoping for a display much like the one she had shown within her hosts womb.

It did not.

Regime scientists _did_ find that PSPRBR1 had what looked as if what might have been lapses of consciousness resulting his instincts to kill to fill in. While PSPRBR1 did have what the scientists liked to call the "guideline" instincts-the basic of the basic instincts- PSPLDS2 was a much more complicated web. And the Regime scientists believed that the reason was because of the gender difference and the want to play with her prey-

"Or how Riddick likes to say: Skull-fuck her victims." He said aloud to himself. As the comm. on his desk buzzed to life, he looked up at it. "What?" he asked it irritably

"Ah, General Seagare, it is good to hear your voice." A female spoke.

"What do you want Dr. Winston? I don't have time for your petty conversations unless it has to do with our favorite people." The General growled. He was a rather youthful man in his early thirties, a lean build with kind yet serious ice blue eyes and natural long white hair that was usually seen pulled into a low horsetail. _Souvenirs of what the Regime did to _me…

"Actually, Kisho…it does."Dr. Winston answered, "You might want to get down here. There's something I want you to see."

"This better be good, Corey." Kisho rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"It is, Sir. I promise." The woman answered.

_If this has to do with what kind of sedatives that would be able to bring down LDS2 again. If it is, I'll kill her myself._ Kisho thought as he pulled himself out of his comfortable leather chair and continued out of his office to the laboratory. He hated being here, his green uniform standing out amongst all the white lab coats and the atmosphere just brought back old memories that made him growl slightly.

"Thank you, Kisho, for coming down here on such short notice. I know you don't like it here, but you must see this." A young woman looking to be in her late twenties walked over to him, her dark blond hair in a messy bun and her cerulean eyes covered by safety goggles. She pulled the goggles off and led him toward a sampling room. "This might interest you…quite a bit, I must say myself."

They stood looking through the Plexiglas viewing window watching a young scientist making adjustments. The young male looked up at his superiors and Dr. Winston nodded for his continuation. "What am I looking at, Dr. Winston?" The General asked as he watched what he thought were cells that were in a disk on a screen in the work room.

"This, Sir, is a sample of LDS2's DNA. Let me tell you what brought this whole situation on as Marshal gets everything ready. Today I had given Marshal a project to do with this sample of LDS2's DNA. He was to test it in different temperatures, just to understand what kind of environment LDS2 can stand. The lowest temperature is 21°F, while the highest is 128°F. He had called me in to show me the results, at the time I was carrying a tube sample of AIDS. As you know, we have been toying with that virus for a long time, beginning in the 20th century. I had complimented Marshal on his findings and turned…" Her cheeks dusted with pink, yet she did not look away from him. "Ahem…and tripped over the stool legs."

Kisho barked with laughter. Corey Winston was a very stubborn woman who had never been clumsy, but nimble on her feet. She was a woman with great agility, something that the Regime, also, had to do with…so of course Kisho would be laughing his lungs out, holding his aching gut.

"There is nothing funny about it, I could've twisted my ankle," yet this sentence only seemed to fuel his fire. "Kisho, you are making a fool of yourself. Stop laughing this instant. I still have something important to get at."

Wiping his eyes, the General straightened himself out. His face swiftly turned to emotionless. "Go on, Doctor."

"Anyway, I fell and the tube flew out of my hands…only for some of it to land with LDS2's DNA. This is what happened." She pointed to the screen, and Kisho watched as the scientist in the room dropped a bit of the virus in the DNA sample. He watched as the DNA suddenly twisted and reformed, then swiftly moved toward the samples of the virus and began to attack it.

"What is it that I am seeing, Corey?" Kisho asked, awed at the sight of battle between the two samples.

"Well…the only way to say it is, LDS2's DNA is killing off the AIDS virus as if it were just a common cold, yet the strange thing is that the DNA shifted…it-it evolved, Sir. I don't know any other way to put it."

The wheels in his brain began turning at an alarming rate. "LDS2's DNA is basically all of the Cerberus gene, right Doc?"

"The Cerberus gene is purely animalistic, General. It is no specific animal, it's all just instinct and strength from all of the predatorial animals in the universe. Panther, lion, wolf…hellhound… When Dr. Morose made the Cerberus Gene, he took DNA from all sorts of animals. He was trying to make the ultimate solider."

"There's where your wrong, Doc." Kisho shook his head.

"Well then, General, what was he trying to do before he died, Oh-All-Knowing-One?" she asked sarcastically.

The General frowned, and began to walk away. "I don't know doc. I don't know."

_But I sure do aim to find out_.

XXXXX

"URGH! GODDAMN YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Imam jumped up from his bed, awakened by the loud cursing yell. Grabbing his robe on his way out of his room, the Muslim priest rushed to the mess where all the sounds were coming from. He threw the door open and saw a slender, lethal body jump onto the back of the biggest then continued to bite the juncture of the man's throat and shoulder.

"Jack! Riddick! Stop this nonsense, now!" the eldest of the trio living on the ship shouted. He had never seen this before. They had always gotten along fine together.

Riddick reached behind him and yanked the girl from his back, dangling her at arms length away from his person. "She _bit_ me!" he angrily announced to the dark skinned man, pointing to the bleeding wound with his free hand. "_She bit me_, Holy Man!"

"Mr. Ridd─"

"You should've never of said I was weak to begin with, Dickie." Jack interrupted, before hauling herself up a little ways and biting him on his arm. Riddick promptly let her go before she could draw blood.

Jack scuttled over to the first aid box and took out some gauze and alcohol to disinfect the wound then proceeded to throw the items at the big man. She might have wounded him, but it didn't mean that she didn't still care. He had gotten justly punished for his impertinence when he had called Slade and Damion weak females and telling her that she was just as weak. Jack knew that he had been joking, but no one bruised Slade and Damion's pride when she was around. So she had attacked…

Riddick sat down on one of the benches with the gauze and alcohol and gently touched the tender and now bruised skin. "Damn, Jack, they sure did teach you some dirty tricks, didn't they?"

He smiled mentally as she gave a smile that would almost be considered baring her teeth as she set down a plate loaded with food for him. _I knew she was a spitfire, but damn_…_kinda makes me wonder what the Con-X is like now._

Imam shook his head as he picked up his breakfast plate Jack had made him and sat down. Life with these two sure was interesting for a man in his mid forties, not mention it kept him in shape as well.

"Mr. Riddick, Jack," he started as he sat down opposite of them. They both look up at him, their eyes questioning as their heads were bent down getting ready to accept a fork full of food to their open mouths; they were as still as statues. "I have good news for you."

"Wha?" They both asked absently, wondering what the priest would have to tell them as he seemed to radiate a glow of importance. It must have been extremely imperative if he looked at them with such a stern look…

"You have both been deemed psychotic nuts." He said at last, exasperated before he took a decent fork full of food into his mouth.

Jack looked at Riddick only to see him doing the same; both were shocked, before they snorted.

_So he finally figured it out_. Riddick thought, before accepting his bite of eggs, before mumbling, "Oh, yeah? By who?"

"Me." The priest answered, looking down at his food as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

At that, both fugitives laughed. Jack with a more loud and explosive laugh, and Riddick with almost refined chuckles.

"Yer funny, Holy Man, real funny. I'll give you that." The large convict nodded.

This was how they usually started their days, minus the whole fight. Jack would make breakfast, they would sit down and Imam would "diagnosis" them with many different things. For the rest of the eating period they would discuss the reasons Imam came to the conclusion of why they were a certain way. The whole shebang would end in them chortling over their little flaws and why Imam was cursed and destined to look after two wild rebels.

Soon after they would all split up. Imam usually to pray, Jack usually to her room or to exercise, and Riddick to do only Allah knew what.

Riddick watched as Imam walked back to the room they had all deemed the "Place Where Imam Does His Thing", making sure the old man had safely shut the door before he turned to Jack as she was exiting the mess.

"Are you ever gonna tell him, kid?" he asked, curious of her answer, yet needing to know whether he could talk about Damion and Slade in front of the priest.

Jack shrugged, "I don't want the old man having a heart attack any time soon. But I think that if Slade suddenly showed up at our door step, he'll die of heart _failure_. So I guess I ought to take my chances with the heart attack."

Riddick nodded a hint of a smirk shadowing his lips before walking to their room. Jack walked in behind him, pouncing on the bed with a laptop he had bought for her on their last planet. He searched their drawers for something before turning to the teenager. "Jack, where's my black hoodie?"

"Why? Where you going?" she asked and he heard her open a file and began to read it.

"A job I decided to take." He answered, still digging in their drawers, looking for his favorite article of clothing besides his pants.

"Whose the target, and how much?" she absently asked, knowing full well that Riddick would only take a job for killing and the target had to fit in his categories.

"A powerful mob leader by the name of Conte Derais. The guy who wants him dead said Derais killed his wife and two twin children; girl and boy five years old. 1.5mil if I give him back the finger with the ring and tattoo on it. The ring is a golden eye. It's some kind of ally ring."

"Damn, this guy really wants really your man dead, hn?" the teenager asked. She looked up for a minute to watch the large man continue to tear through their things. "Riddick…it's here, on the bed right beside me."

As said murderer turned, he saw amusement twinkle in those emerald depths. "Not funny Jack."

"Whoever said I was laughing oh-great-one?" She handed the hoodie over and let him snatch it. Jack watched as he pulled it over his bald head and then push his goggles into place. "When will you be back?"

"Don't worry about it, kid. Just do what Imam tells you. I'll be back later tonight." Riddick mentally went over his checklist before walking out of the room and exited the ship via the cargo ramp.

Jack watched him go and turned back to her laptop with a shrug. _Let 'im do whatever he wants, just as long as he doesn't get killed._

XXXXX

If he had not been a patient man, Riddick was sure that he would have already killed himself out of pure frustration. It almost seemed as if his guy was never left alone.

_Well, it looks as if I'm gonna have to kill thrice. Conte and his two cronies._ The fugitive thought with a mental sigh. He sat on top of a building watching as Conte was making some deal in the dark alleys. Riddick blended in perfectly with the darkness of the night as he caressed the right side of his face with the blade of his shiv; his thinking position. Riddick wanted to do this quickly, drop off the proof to his "boss", get his money and leave this planet before anybody noticed that he had been here in the first place. The planet Cortevera was not a place that he wanted to stay for long, for not only was it one of the many places that Jack was wanted, but the place teemed with Mercs since she had left it. Although its sister planet, Nevra, was a great place…_Might wanna crash there sometime._ Riddick held many fond memories on Nevra, an easy place to get lost in and never be found. Once called Never Land, it was shorted to Nevra.

Riddick's mercury eyes narrowed on his man as Conte punched the other. _This just might be an opportunity_… He continued to watch as one of the men flanking Conte was shot down. _Maybe I won't have to do as much as I thought_. Riddick quickly scaled down the low brick wall to sit in the shadows, his shiv held at the ready; ready to strike as quickly as spitting king cobra. _Uh-oh_, the murderer thought as he watched Conte over power the other group with mere fire power, _time to turn this to my fortune._

Looking to his left and right, he picked up a sharp metal piece of pole. Testing it's weight, he aimed at the last of Conte's minion who was standing in front of the other one's last, strangling him, then threw it; accurately killing two birds with one stone. He watched as Conte and the other man with greased back hair glance at the pole.

"What the fuck! Where the fuck did that come from!" the other man yelled at Conte.

_I'm surrounded by idiots, I swear_. Riddick thought before sauntering from the shadows. "I can never understand how Mob leaders can be so idiotic yet lead a gang. Fucking amusing if you ask me."

_I just might be able to have some fun tonight. _As the two men's eyes widened in wild fear, his nostrils flared at the scent; the beast laying just underneath in his chest reared its sleek, furred head and let loose a growl that reverberated in the air around them.

_Show time._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Well...whatever. Review.


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